


I'll put my future in you

by lostinfictionalworlds



Series: Forevermore [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Daddies, Dinner, Future, Love, M/M, Singing, baby hummel anderson, night time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3858031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinfictionalworlds/pseuds/lostinfictionalworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh you are my one, and only<br/>You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight<br/>And you'll be alright…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll put my future in you

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- Inspired by and title taken from the song Small Bump by Ed Sheeran.

Kurt mumbles to himself wordlessly, humming and grinning contently as he continues rinsing and chopping the vegetables in preparation for a late, quiet and hopefully peaceful dinner.

 

It’s been a long day, turning into an even longer night. He’s only just managed to tidy the almost the whole house into a more appropriate living condition, and Fabreezed the air free of the most curious and other worldly odours.

 

Yet still he’s happy, he’s more than happy. More than he ever thought he could be.

 

The gentle beat of a soft _tap tap_ on a hard surfaceand a lulling guitar melody flows soothingly out of one of the open bedroom doorways down the hall, through the living room and into the kitchen.

 

Kurt stretches up and switches off the overhead extractor fan above the stainless steel hooded stove, leaving the kitchen now in a gentle silence save for the pan of boiling water bubbling away and the quiet hum of the oven where the garlic bread is heating to life.

 

Kurt hears his husband’s voice accompany the sound of the music as the tune starts to echo a little louder around the modern chic kitchen counters and dark glossy, tiled walls.

 

A smile grows wide and warm on Kurt’s face as he recognizes the song and lyrics. Fourth time this week in fact, and yet Kurt still finds his heart rate quicken at the sound of his husband’s voice filling their home and the words he sings, ringing loud and proud and true.   

“ _You’re just a small bump unborn, in four months you're brought to life,  
You might be left with my hair, but you'll have your mother's eyes…”_

Blaine first started singing this particular song back when their daughter was just a fleshy mound of Rachel’s stomach, just five months old. Back when they were still unsure as to who the real birth father of their baby would be.

Now, there is absolutely no contest to whose sperm triumphed. On the sunny morning of the birth after a piercing wail and a startling cry, a bubble of laughter and then a sobbing waterfall of tears; a beautiful baby girl was presented with an overgrown mop of outrageous dark curls and large deep, dark brown eyes blinking curiously up at the world. __  
  


“ _I'll hold your body in my hands be as gentle as I can,_  
And now your scan on my unmade plans,  
Small bump, in four months you're brought to life…”

There was never a time or period during decorating the nursery or reading through pamphlets and guides when their home wasn’t filled with Blaine’s charming musical genius. Now, that their daughter is here in the world with them, sleeping soundly in a bundle of lemon and cream blankets; the words of the song don’t make much sense. But Kurt would never give up the chance to listen to his husband sing such sentimental words. They make sense somewhere, somehow, in someway.

_“I'll hold you tightly, I'll give you nothing but truth,  
If you're not inside me, I'll put my future in you…”_

Kurt remembers spending many a night curled up in bed with his husband, weighing up the pro’s and cons of in which Blaine were to be born with the correct apparatus needed to carry a child. “ _I just wish I could carry her you know, have a piece of her inside of me and vice versa…” “Blaine you’re ridiculous, we are no less a part of our child just because she’s not causing us rapid weight gain and backache.”_

Those conversations always ended up with Kurt blissfully blinking into a peaceful slumber with the whispered words of his husband in his ear and his declarations of love and his plans for their family and the future. No matter what.

 _“You are my one, and only_  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
Oh you are my one, and only  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
And you'll be alright…”

It was one of the first things that Blaine had mumbled after he and Kurt had been left alone with their daughter in one of the small, private family rooms of the maternity ward in a busy New York hospital. _“Kurt, Kurt she’s so small, oh look, oh my god look Kurt she’s wrapping her whole finger around my thumb. Her whole finger, Kurt.”_

_“You're just a small bump unknown, you'll grow into your skin  
With a smile like hers and a dimple beneath your chin…”_

They’re still yet to experience the pure joy of their baby’s first smile, she’s too young at the moment. But they know it’s coming soon, with each wrinkle of that button nose and twist of those tiny pink, plump lips. Each time those long, dark eyelashes fan out across rosy, chubby cheeks and flutter up and down, they know that a dazzling smile is not too far away in the future.

 __  
“Finger nails the size of a half grain of rice  
And eyelids closed to be soon opened wide a small bump,  
In four months you'll open your eyes…”

Kurt drops the vegetables into the pan of water and then checks on the gently simmering sauce smelling sharp and rich and vibrant. He cleans up the mess left on the counter and then peers down into the oven, watches the garlic bread crisp up nicely and then quietly enters the living room, satisfied with his work.

Blaine’s voice continuously follows him as he goes about his business in and around the room as their dinner cooks. He fluffs the couch cushions, picks up a discarded spit up cloth to add to the wash pile and ends up over at their swanky corner bar, uncorks a bottle of wine and pours two glass. 

 _“…You can lie with me, with your tiny feet when your half asleep,_  
I'll leave you be  
Right in front of me for a couple weeks  
So I can keep you safe…”

The beautifully crafted wicker crib, complete with plush ivory, plaid bedding; gifted to them from Burt and Carole, still sits in Blaine and Kurt’s bedroom. Just by the foot of their bed, with easy access for the through the night ‘feed me’ or ‘change me NOW’ emergencies.

They’ve read the books, they’ve seen the videos, and they’ve heard the advice given to them by many helpful and mindful parents. They know to let her sleep soundly in her crib, and to leave her there. But…

But when she falls asleep during the early hours of the sunrise, safely cocooned in Blaine’s arms, snug in the middle of the mattress with Kurt snoring softly tucked up and around his waist; after suckling from her bottle and giving her daddy a pretty impressive burp, Blaine cannot possibly even think about getting up out of bed and deposit her anywhere else but by his side.

 _“Cause you are my one, and only_  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
Oh you are my one, and only  
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight  
And you'll be alright.”

Blaine’s singing ends with a whispered hush and a flourish of notes and strings. There’s a dull thud and a clank, a shushing sound followed by a soft clicking noise and Kurt smiles as he sees the baby monitor sitting on the arm of the sofa flash to life, their baby’s soft huffs of breath sounding through the speakers indicating a peaceful sleep.

“She’s out like a light.” Blaine says quietly as he enters the room moments later. Kurt turns to him and smiles, picks up the wine glasses and reaches one out to him.

“I’m not surprised, with _that_ lullaby.” Kurt grins as they clink glasses and take a sip, eyes closing and throats working as the alcohol sinks down deep and warm, like a relaxant to their veins.

“I can’t help but sing that song to her.” Blaine says as he follows Kurt back into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table and watches as Kurt fusses about with plates and napkins. Another sip of wine, his eyes warm and bright and dreamy under the kitchen ceiling spotlights as he watches Kurt flit about. “I just love it. I love _her_. So, so much. I mean every word.”

Kurt retrieves the bread from the oven, places it on a cooling rack and turns the heat down on the stove to a light simmer.  He picks up his wine glass, taking a sip as he approaches Blaine at the table. “I know.” He smiles, his eyes dancing.

“I love you too, just as much, but just _different_ , you know?”

“I know that too.” Kurt says grinning. He places his glass down beside Blaine’s on the table and slinks down into his husband’s lap, his arms draped over Blaine’s shoulders. “The feeling’s mutual, you know?”

They kiss and smile and smile and kiss. Yes, they’re tired, wrecked even. They have no clean socks to wear, have ran out of toothpaste in the guest bathroom and a list of chores as long an average sized arm to get through, but they couldn’t be happier.

“You are my one and only…”

“Yeah? Well you can wrap your fingers around my…”

“Oookaay, let’s eat first, Blaine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for joining me with my fluffy schmluffy thing.


End file.
